Wōdnesdæg (Wednesday)
Introduction to "Wōdnesdæg"
This
poem is based on the everyday worship of Wodan by a peasant in a sacred forest
clearing by an old oak tree.
While
a full blot would have been attended by the whole village and led by a priest
of Wodan with an animal sacrifice, here however, we see everyday worship of
Wodan by a peasant asking for a favour.
The
ownership of even a single cow or ox was confined to only about half the
population and other livestock was too important to sacrifice except on
important festivals e.g. during Blotmonath (November). So I conjecture that on
this Wednesday only bread is sacrificed and mead is used for the pledge.
While
some temples did exist to Wodan with enclosed spaces and statues, it was also
common to Worship him in sacred groves, glades, hilltops, rivers, pools and
other natural features. A priest of Wodan was not permitted to carry a sword or
blade.
Liminal
moments such as full moon, twilight or rising of moon were endowed with magic. Sacred
oaks were used to bare witness to oaths. Wodan's two wolves and ravens manifest
in name. The reference to 'Squirrel climes the tree' is a candid reference to
the legend of the tree of Yggdrasil.
Glossary:
Galdor-cræft
- conjuring spirits by chanting, singing or spell crafting
Middangeard
- the realm of man
Wæs
hæl - OE for wassail (your health)
Drychten
- lord
Æsir
- the principal gods
Asgard
– the realm of the gods
Translation of the OE
stanza:
Wodan
make sacred!
Our
Wodan that is in heaven,
Your
name is holy.
What
we need give us today,
Be
done your will!
And yes I borrowed most of
it from the Lord’s Prayer because it seemed to fit!
Wōdnesdæg (Wednesday)
Knee length brown tunic, in warp and weft weaves,
Embroidered red hems, to neck and long sleeves.
Patterned belt buckle, and pointed strap-end,
Pouches and short knife, ready to attend.
No temple doth stand, within sacred glade,
No priest of Wodan, without sword and blade.
Deep in dark forest, rising of full moon,
Holy hearth clearing, rite of ritual rune.
Blot without a beast, in woodland twilight,
Loaf of best baked bread, awaiting moon light.
Half horn of mild mead, torn old ochre cloak,
An oath to exchange, at thousand year oak.
Liminal moment, charged with special power,
Offering laid down, at base of the bower.
Consecrated grove, spirit witness tree,
Healer of nine herbs, I doth invoke thee.
Galdor-craeft:
Wodan weoh!
Wodan ure þu þe eart on heofonum,
Si þin nama gehalgod.
Hwæt we nied syle us todæg,
Gewurþe ðin willa!
Listening for Freki, in torn cloak with hood,
Middangeard doth fade, in winter's wild wood.
Leader of 'Wild Hunt’, Wodan magic lord,
Thine will be'est
done, unto thine accord.
Howling wolves hard by, about on the tor,
Cracking of branches, beneath Geri's paw.
Ravens rustle trees, cold cry of Hugin,
Forest falls silent, awaiting Munin.
Raising horn wæs hæl, “Drychten I beseech",
Making Wodan pledge,
as the witches teach.
Aesir in Asgard, I
give thee my word,
Squirrel climes the
tree, my favour is heard!
Copyright Andrew Rea October 2012